Cheer Up

Give me a smile
with lips stretched wide as a rubber band
and in between a set of straight white teeth
dazzling like a mirror ball.

I promise not to lose that smile.
I'll hold it tight and deep
down a handy pocket
in a wipeable moon-shaped case.

My smile will be looked after well.
I'll scrub and floss it, preventing rot
and rub its skin with cocoa butter
to stop the cracks.

I'll save my smile for special occasions:
school photographs, when everyone laughs
at jokes that I don't get. Or just to prove
I didn't cry when my team lost.

I'll grab that smile and stick it on
so quick they won't discover
the other one I'm trying to hide.
The smile that's hanging upside down.